A day passed and Cosimo felt the tension in his marriage stronger than ever.
It would be easier if we had been in love. If we were in love.
The man reminded himself frequently that he was not the only party forced into their marriage. After their first night as husband and wife, he'd watched as Contessina wiped tears from her eyes and bid him goodnight by saying "Goodnight, Messer Medici."
Had he been a romantic he'd have replied "Goodnight, Madonna Medici," but he'd simply turned and entered his own chambers.
The woman he loved had been sent away by his parents before his marriage had even been arranged. Contessina loved a man of her own station but was forced away from him for financial gain. Her family had traded her happiness for their own benefit. She was a transaction.
They'd avoided each other the entire day. Cosimo had been called away to the bank and had not returned until after dinner. As he walked to his chamber, he heard footsteps within his wife's and saw Emilia through the slightly ajar door. She caught his eye and gave a nod of acknowledgment. He did the same.
After a pauper's meal of bread and cheese, the man reclined on his bed taking deep breaths of the Florence air that wafted in through an open window.
Suddenly, a woman stood in front of him. He knew it was his wife, but her face was blurred. Wiry auburn locks intermingled with soft brunette on her head. She spoke to him, but he could not make out the words. A feeling deep inside him stirred but he could not decipher if it was love and affection or a mournful longing.
He shook himself awake as a sharp knock met the wood of the door. A dream.
Contessina stood outside.
"Cosimo, I'm sorry, did I wake you?" The man wondered what time it was.
"No. It's just been a long day." The look on the woman's face shifted as her husband spoke. Where there was once a cool composure now sat anxiety and embarrassment under a poorly constructed mask of indifference.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I'll leave you be." She went to leave.
"What was it you wanted?" Cosimo asked. His tone erupted more annoyed than he had wished.
"It's—I just…" The mask of indifference completely left the woman's face. Cosimo moved to let her enter his chamber.
"I was thinking," the woman continued as Cosimo closed the door behind her. "What if…No. I'm sorry. It is ridiculous. I'll go." Cosimo watched as the internal battle within his wife ate her alive. She appeared as a wild rabbit choosing between the hunter's bow or the wolf's fang. Cosimo stepped in front of the door, preventing her departure.
"Well, now I'm curious," he said, a witty smirk crawled across his face. Contessina hesitated.
"I was thinking," she started again. "About your woman in Rome."
She paused but Cosimo gave no reaction.
"What if…she took my place in our bed?" Cosimo's eyebrows raised.
"I'm not sure I understand what you're getting at," he said.
"Not physically," Contessina explained, pulling something from her robe's pocket. "Just in your mind." It was a strip of cloth.
"You want me to pretend you are Bianca?" Contessina nodded in response.
"I'm not sure I—" Cosimo protested. His wife cut him off.
"Just this once and if it is not pleasant we shall never speak of it again." She held out the strip of cloth to him. "For your eyes."
Cosimo smirked. "This is a side of you I did not expect, Contessina."
She turned to once more make her exit.
"Wait," he stopped her. "I cannot tie this myself." He held the cloth strip out to her.
"Tonight?" She was shocked. In her mind, she would leave him with the idea and allow him to act on it eventually, but not right away. Cosimo shrugged.
"When opportunity arises, should we not all jump to it?"
Contessina took the cloth from her husband and raised herself on her tiptoes to tie it.
"Now that I am blinded," the man said, feigning annoyance, "What am I to do?"
"I'm not sure," his wife responded. "I had not been so certain you would go along with it."
They stood in silence for a moment.
"Pretend you are in Rome," the woman said, her voice taking on a more hypnotic cadence. "It is night. You're in your room there. She's there with you."
Cosimo allowed his mind to wander with the voice of his wife leading the way.
"What would Bianca do?" Contessina asked, whispering into his ear. Cosimo reached behind him and grabbed his wife's hands, leading her around his body to be before him. In his mind, Bianca stood before him. Guiding her hands with his own, he slid them up his chest, reaching his neck. He leaned down and kissed the laundress. She kissed him back with passion. His hands still holding hers, he found the hem of his shirt and removed it quickly.
Leaning into the memories of his nights with Bianca, he spun the woman around and kissed the back of her neck. Her skin was hot. He heard her robe hit the floor as he pushed it off her shoulders and followed the length of her arms down to her hands; he held them hard, interlacing his fingers with hers.
A voice at the back of his head nagged him. Yanking him from the memory hard.
"Contessina," he whispered into her ear. "If anything is too much…" He felt her head nod against her cheek before he could finish. He kissed her neck hard once more. Breaking his hands from hers, he moved them up her waist to her breasts. He grazed two taught nubs with his palms as he slowly made his way up.
"Come this way," he whispered, leading her to his bed. He sat at the edge of the mattress, leading the woman in his mind and before him onto his lap. Feeling up her arms to her shoulders, he beckoned her down for another kiss before kissing down her neck and untying the string at her neck that held the nightgown together. His lips found her collarbones and as he kissed down her sternum, between her breasts, he could feel the power of her heartbeat beneath her skin. He pulled her closer, gripping her posterior as he did so.
Suddenly, he felt the fabric of the nightgown disappear and he held nothing but the warmth of skin in his palms. He pulled her closer still against him. The woman let out a subtle gasp. He moved his mouth to the left, taking her breast into his mouth. His hand found her other breast and ensure it was receiving similar attention. She moved against him and he felt the warmth of her body through the fabric of his trousers.
Taking his arm and wrapping one around her waist and holding tight to her thigh with the other, Cosimo stood, turned, and placed her on the bed behind him. Quickly he fumbled with the strings of his pants.
"Let me help you," a soft voice said, taking the strings from him and easily undoing the knot.
Contessina was thankful for the blindfold her husband wore. Her face glowed red with heat and lust and most of all embarrassment. Cosimo had never touched her in such a way before. Contessina had never seen Cosimo's manhood the way she was about to.
In the split second after his trousers hit the floor, Cosimo was returned to the bed and had once more pulled the woman onto his lap.
Again he whispered to his wife and not the woman in his mind.
"If it is too much—" She quieted him with a kiss more passionate than he'd ever experienced. He pushed inside of her with a groan. Cosimo's hands gripped tightly at her hips and he rocked them back and forth with ferocity. His moans of pleasure became louder. In his mind, Bianca closed her eyes. He wished they'd open just once. Contessina stared at her husband with lust in her eyes.
His hands moved over her body. Raising his head, he kissed her hard before his mouth found her breasts again. Feeling passion come over her, Contessina pushed her husband back to the bed and kissed him. He moved her hips faster until he could hold in his little death no more.
Panting and glistening with sweat, Cosimo swept the blindfold from his eyes. Contessina, sat atop him, came into view —fuzzy at first with his eyes adjusting to the light. He'd never seen her fully naked before.
Embarrassed, the woman quickly grabbed her nightgown that had been thrown to the foot of the bed and returned it to her body. Slowly she removed herself from her husband's lap and reclined next to him, her shoulder nearly touching the wall.
"For someone who speaks so much, you are very quiet," Cosimo jested, staring at the stars created by his little death as they floated on the ceiling.
"For someone who rarely speaks, you are awfully loud," Contessina reciprocated. They both smiled.
Contessina lay next to her husband a few minutes more in silence before getting up. Cosimo braced himself up on his elbows, his figure naked like a portrait of Adam awakening in the Garden of Eden.
"Goodnight, Cosimo."
Her robe lay on the floor in front of the fire.